by Starr West
“I guess, sort of.” I had no idea where he was going with this.
“Stop me if you need to ask questions.” Phoenix looked peaceful as he spoke and gazed at me with a knowledge I couldn’t fathom. He seemed older and wiser than I’d noticed before and his violet eyes seemed to have deepened two shades darker than normal.
“The lessons we choose to learn and the people we choose to learn from are in our lives even before we make our transition to birth. Our families on earth are often our families from home and have been our family units many times before, in many other lives. We play different roles each lifetime, but everyone in our lives now, are recognized by our souls from previous lives.
“Everyone here is part of the plan you made for your life. You wrote this path together with them and they will assist you and help you complete your purpose.”
“How do you know all this?” I couldn’t understand how everyone seemed to know what was going on except me.
“It’s complicated.” Phoenix screwed up his face as he spoke; he was such a bad liar.
“That’s not good enough, you promised me the truth.”
Phoenix took a deep breath and chewed on his lip, “It really is complicated… when all this is so new for you, but I guess the easiest explanation is that I remember things.”
“What things?”
“From home, from before I came here. I remember why I’m here, for example. I remember my past lives and well… I remember some of yours too.”
“Past lives?” Mum believed in reincarnation, and while I wasn’t sure if I was ready to accept his entire explanation, I was pretty keen to find out about my past lives. “So…Who was I? What did I do? Tell me I was a queen or someone exciting, like Cleopatra.”
“No, you weren’t Cleopatra, but we don’t have time now and it’s not relevant. I promise I will tell you sometime.” Libby placed hot tea on the table. It wasn’t regular tea, the colour and smell were all wrong, but I was getting used to the mystery brews that habitually appeared in my teacup. I didn’t even ask what was in the cup anymore, though I was beginning to distinguish some of the herbs by their smell and taste. The tea was soothing and cleared my head, though I hadn’t realised I was beginning to feel hazy until I began drinking the tea.
“There must be more; all this secrecy, all the looks… everything. There must be more.”
Phoenix shrugged and looked at Libby with innocence. “Not really, you just overreacted a bit. There are some finer details, but basically that’s all, I guess.”
I looked at Libby and waited for her explanation. “Phoenix is right. There are details, but you have most of the story. We were worried that you would have a hard time accepting it all and honestly, I thought you understood you were the last daughter. I’m sorry you felt betrayed.”
“Well, then we better get on with the details. I can’t really decide my entire future without the details.”
“You’re taking this better than I expected,” Libby said, looking at me as if she thought I might run from the room any minute. I looked up and noticed the door closed, maybe even locked.
“I just wanted the truth.” That part was true. “What about saving the world? That just seems over the top, but you said there are others like me. Does that mean that there are others with the same prophecy?”
Libby sat with her tea and answered, “I doubt there are prophecies exactly the same as ours, however there are bound to be similar ones. There have been messages and signs for many years, some have been quite public, while others, like ours, are kept secret. When I say there are other children like you, I am guessing there are others just like you, in place, ready to assist. The source may be different, but the message is likely to be the same.”
“What message?”
“I don’t have the message. That’s only for you. You’re the one who will receive it.”
“How do you know? How will I know? What if I already received it and missed it?”
Phoenix smiled, “I would know if you missed it. If it comes in a dream, it will be different; there will be a way to tell.”
Libby held her Book of Shadows open and turned it so I could read the lines about me, “…the ninth daughter is the dreamer of dreams…”
So now I was expected to dream the message. The strangeness of having Phoenix share my dreams was a good indication that I wasn’t quite normal, but then, neither was he.
“Shouldn’t this have happened before? When we could have saved some of the people?” My voice caught in my throat and my eyes glistened with tears that threatened to overflow. I was thinking about Mum.
Libby reached across and took my hand. “Everything happens exactly as it is supposed to. We can only guess why we had to wait until we lost so many and so much.”
It was almost noon so the sun should have been high in the sky, casting tight shadows beneath the trees, but the light in the house had dimmed and I could barely read the rest of the prophecy. Outside, the sky had grown dark, and thick black clouds obscured the sun. We hadn’t noticed a storm brewing until the light in the house grew weak and the breeze picked up. Libby looked a little worried because she was normally better prepared. She claimed her old body was like a barometer, one aching knee indicated rain, both knees - lots of rain, and if her back flared up and her shoulders ached as well, thunderstorms were certain. Today, nothing. Libby was fit as a fiddle.
“Phoenix, you should go and see if anyone needs a hand. Your Mum’s home alone and may need your help.”
“Sure, but I’ll come back before the storm hits,” Phoenix said as he rushed out of the house. He jogged across the yard and into the forest without hesitating.
Libby gave me a list of things to do and rushed off to attend to her own chores. We’d had heaps of storms during summer, every day for weeks it seemed. None had caused this sort of panic in Libby. Normally, we simply closed the windows on the weather side of the house and sat inside drinking tea, listening to the sound of the rain on the tin roof. Often, it was too loud to talk, but I enjoyed the chance to sit peacefully inside, sheltered from the awesome weather.
Chapter 13 ~ STORMS OF CHANGE
I was in the yard as the first rumble of thunder ripped through the sky. A flash of lightening cut the darkness and the violent crash that followed caused me to jump and squeal with unanticipated fear. I loved storms usually. I’d always been the brave one in a storm and Mum hated them. Today my bravado dissolved in the very first drop of rain and I rushed to finish the last of my chores.
The sky was so black, it was almost purple like a hideous bruise and there was no end to it. No streaks of blue or filtered light where the purple faded to show the edge of the storm, every inch of sky was the colour of an overripe plum.
Inside the house, it was dark as night and the need to hide grew. It made my heart thump loudly in my chest. Perhaps it was Libby’s anxiety that caused my panic or perhaps it was just the thunder and lightning against the bruised sky. I stoked the fire and lit two candles to provide a little light and some relief from the darkness and maybe a little comfort.
Libby was still outside, but Pepper was huddled deep in the cushions on the lounge. I couldn’t settle down while Libby was still out in the rain. The raindrops were still large, slow drops, but they fell with a certain intensity. Surprisingly, the rain was cold, icy cold. Rain during the summer had been warm, a real treat in comparison to the chilling rain that now fell. I found Libby struggling to tie down the little wooden structure that housed the chickens. She had already covered the veggie garden and herbs with large sheets of shade cloth. Purpose-made covers to protect from hail, with eyelets on each corner, were pulled taut and secured to hooks on posts around the garden.
“I’m done here, let’s get inside!” Libby yelled against the wind and the thunder that rumbled across the sky without a break. The contrast between the darkness and the bright lightning flashes were more than enough encouragement to send me running for the house.
Phoenix wa
s also running towards the house, followed by Navarre. When they saw us further away, down in the garden, they changed course and ran towards us.
“What are you doing? Get inside! I’ll finish this,” Phoenix yelled at both of us, but it was unnecessary, the job was done and we were all running. Libby might have been spry, but she didn’t run as fast as the rest of us. Navarre reached the house first, followed by me, Libby, then Phoenix. By the time we reached the house, the rain was teeming down in a constant stream of freezing slices of ice that pierced through our clothes as if we were naked.
Phoenix threw the door closed, but the rain had already invaded the house, covering anywhere it could reach.
“What did Ruben say?” Libby was breathless and I searched the boys’ faces for a hint of composure to take away the concern that continued to grow.
Navarre shrugged and Phoenix said, “Dad said to come here and stay with you and Psyche.”
“No, no… about the storm; what did he say about the storm?”
“He doesn’t know,” Navarre said. “Dad said that we can be pretty sure it’s not a cyclone, there is too much thunder and lightning plus, it’s almost winter; but the wind is fierce and picked up so quickly. It took everyone by surprise.”
“Well, we’re safe here. This house has been through hundreds of storms and dozens of cyclones… yes, we’re safe here,” Libby said, trying to convince herself more than us.
Pools of water dripped on the floor where we stood. I sloshed my feet a couple of times in the puddles. “What are you two going to do? Stand here in wet clothes ‘til the storm’s over?”
Navarre started peeling off his wet clothes until he was standing in his underwear, “Good on ya, Navarre! There are women here. No one wants to see you naked,” Phoenix reminded him.
“I’ll dry them by the fire; and anyway, it’s not like I’m naked, not really.” Navarre walked to the old stove and hung his clothes over the rail that ran along the front.
“Leave the boy, Phoenix, we can cope,” Libby handed Phoenix a towel. “If you like, you can take your modesty into the bathroom and change. Wrap the towel around yourself while I see if I can find an old shirt that may fit.”
“I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
“You’re not dripping water all over my house.”
Phoenix was displaying a side of himself I had not seen before. Navarre, on the other hand, behaved exactly as I expected. Phoenix was guarded while Navarre was laid-back and light-hearted. The contrast in their attitudes and behaviours were quite different, but the boys were similar in many other ways.
Libby tossed Navarre a towel. He dried his hair and stood beside the fire. Navarre had honey-coloured, olive skin like Phoenix and the rest of his family. His dark brown hair had the same scruffy style as Phoenix’s, though it was a little longer. No one would doubt the boys were brothers or the children of Tahinah and Ruben.
I found Tahinah beautiful and had to admit that both boys looked a lot like their mother. Standing in front of the fire, shirtless, tanned and muscled, I realised that Navarre was every bit as gorgeous as she was.
Libby eventually discovered she had nothing to fit either boy. She tried to explain to Phoenix that he would have to put his modesty aside, lest he caught a chill and cause his mother’s wrath. Everyone laughed at that. Though it was a joke, I failed to get it.
“It’s not modesty, it’s respect,” Phoenix said as he removed his shirt and hung it on the rack behind the stove. A shiver ran up my spine and I stood, staring at Phoenix, thinking about cold showers.
“Psyche, do you think you could change out of your wet clothes? I know you have spare clothes.” I realised that with all the fuss over the boys changing, I was still standing in the same puddle of water that I’d been in when I entered the room. I took a deep breath, muffled a sigh, and left to change.
The storm was relentless, the rain on the tin roof was deafening and the roaring wind continued to intensify. The windows shook and rattled and small spits of rain forced their way into my room. Pepper was now curled up in a tight ball between two pillows. At least he’d stopped shaking and appeared to be asleep.
Phoenix and Navarre were in the lounge room when I returned, Navarre was sprawled on the sofa and Phoenix was adding wood to the fire. Libby was in the kitchen and the smell of spices filled the house.
Our house was filled with simple, old furniture. Much of it appeared to be about the same age as Libby, though it could have been much older. With Navarre on the sofa, I left the recliner for Libby and arranged a pile of cushions on the floor.
Libby had dozens of cushions, and most had been given as gifts. I remembered making one a few years ago and posting the ornate, but empty cushion cover to her for Christmas. I didn’t pick it now; it was the least comfortable cushion she owned. Mum and I had been going through a crazy patchwork phase. Tiny bits of fabric were pieced together like a jigsaw, then hand stitched, embroidered, beaded, buttoned, glittered and bejewelled. The cushion was a masterpiece, but totally impractical and extremely uncomfortable.
Libby entered the lounge with a tray, holding four mugs, a steaming teapot, large chunks of buttered bread and a jar of honey. She sat the tray down and Phoenix arrived at the table with one leap that landed him perfectly in place. The blazing fire filled the room with a mystical glow, so I no longer felt cold and glum.
“Chai tea, anyone?” Libby asked and explained for my benefit the makings of chai tea. “Chai is a traditional Indian tea - black tea leaves, cardamom, ginger, cloves, and cinnamon boiled gently in milk. You can add a little honey if you like.” The aroma of the spiced tea was divine and reminded me of the spiced Christmas biscuits I used to make with my mother.
“I think Psyche knows more about magick than she’s letting on.” Libby smiled at me, but spoke to Phoenix, “Have you realised that every time we plan to spend the day on her lessons, something comes up to defer them for another day?”
“Actually, I was just thinking the same. We’ve had every type of distraction possible, none seem to be Psyche’s making, but I was wondering.” Phoenix knew Libby was joking and his grin grew into a full smile. His violet eyes twinkled and glistened in the firelight. He was no longer conscious of his half-naked body, but I was.
“You both know how ridiculous that is,” I said, after constructing a mental inventory of the delays we’d had. “And mean. I would never cause these things.” The list was growing and I wondered how they could joke when most of the delays had been quite serious, even life-threatening. “Even if I could do any of this, I wouldn’t. You know that, right?”
I couldn’t get angry. I couldn’t do anything but stare at Phoenix. I was one hundred percent distracted. Phoenix was so close, I could feel the heat from his body and although I wanted to relax, I couldn’t. I hadn’t expected this.
Phoenix looked at me with that same intensity he had in those first few days of my arrival, and as if on cue, I blushed. He smiled and reached out for my hand, squeezed it and let it drop on my lap. “We’re just joking! We know you didn’t do this, at least not the storm… or the abduction.”
Thankfully, he didn’t know what I was really thinking.
Navarre was quiet, eating and drinking. He was sitting cross-legged at the squat table where the food sat. He was still half-dressed, and although I had just realised how gorgeous he was and how similar to Phoenix, his presence didn’t affect me like his brother’s did. But I would have to be dead not to notice him and long dead not to respond in some way.
I was sitting in Boy Heaven, I guess.
The storm continued to batter our little house. The wind whistled through the gaps and the rain hammered against the tin roof. It seemed relentless, though the thunder and lightning appeared to be less frequent. Still, when lightning filled the room, I braced myself for the clap of thunder.
There was no measure of time to indicate how long the storm persisted; there were no clocks in Libby’s house and no watches on our wrists. There was no need to mea
sure time, it was no longer relevant, but it was ingrained in us anyway. We estimated length of time, and as long as we agreed, that was all the evidence we needed. As the thunder eased to a gentle rumble we accepted that we had been holed up for at least an hour, maybe two.
The fire, the food and the spiced tea contributed to a relaxed atmosphere. Navarre had returned to the lounge and shut his eyes. Perhaps he was sleeping. Libby had gone to her room now that it appeared her worry was for nothing. Phoenix relaxed back on a pile of cushions and tossed a thin knee rug over himself, leaving his chest exposed. Libby was right, he was modest.
I felt sleepy too and wanted to lay back and relax, but unless I left the room, any attempt to lie down in the small and modest lounge room would position me closer to Phoenix than I already was. I was beyond distraction and discovered that all my thoughts tracked back to him. If I were normal, I may have recognised the signs and symptoms, but I was anything but normal - I’d never been normal.
Phoenix rolled over to his side, reached out and took my hand. “Don’t spend too much time worrying about what might happen or what is expected of you. It will work out in the end. It always does.”
For the second time today, Phoenix had presumed wrongly, “I was thinking about something else actually, but since you mentioned it… how can you be sure it will work out?”
“Things always work out exactly how they’re supposed to. It may not seem like it at the time, but in the end, when we look back, we see it couldn’t have gone any other way.”
“What if I say no and choose not to be a part of the prophecy?” It was an option I had to consider.
“You won’t,” Phoenix seemed quite certain.